


Sprinkled Snow

by ghouluke



Category: Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Genre Twist, Ambiguity, Coursework, Dark, Drug Use, Dystopia, Gen, Just a rando piece I did on Snow White for coursework a few years ago - it's dark, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 01:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghouluke/pseuds/ghouluke
Summary: The cryptic man smirked – temptation - at her on her arrival, a thin cylinder between his lips. Not too far from him, another man was slumped up against the wall, forearm outstretched on his legs, needle pressed into the skin there, eyes tightly shut; he may as well have been dead from all an outsider could tell. It was such a mundane thing to do, so Snow wasn’t startled at all.(Alternatively, a dark twist on the Snow White fairy tale)





	Sprinkled Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Just a piece I wrote for college coursework a couple of years ago, just wanted to post it here to share, and allow for ease of sharing on my website.

A notorious city. Outlandish and unconventional. Barren wasteland was nothing to these people and everything had become so familiar that nobody questioned the constant feeling that a higher being was constantly watching them. A good idea for those not as privileged, as you or I.  The population scurry about, keeping up the farce, holding onto what little they have. It was an obvious fate for all those damned enough to live there. A fate so obvious that any of us could spot without blinking an eye.

Snow White was no exception.

Alone. Terribly alone. Although that was not in the physical sense. A mother of seven children (Asa, Dorma, Jay, Ebony, Lillian, Ezra, Julian), she was never without company and tried to strive forward in life with these children at her side. But something was always missing: A man.  But, what man would ever want to put up with _seven_ step-children? We all know it is not the children’s fault though.

The woman tried her best to get by; having seven children and being a single parent wasn’t easy. Their abode was a ratty, rented house in the city’s suburbs, much worse than any conditions you would ever be seen dead in. Snow White struggled to keep it; her past addiction was a drain on the household’s income. She was so used to having an upper lip that looked as though someone had sprinkled snowflakes onto its contours. How Ironic. Snow White wasn’t the name her parents gave to her. Of course, no mother would call her child something as common as _that_.

The past was a forbidden area of conversation within their lives, something that had been enforced an unknown amount of time ago. After all, that was a past event. People were only allowed to talk about the occasions that had taken place no further back than three hundred and sixty-five days before the current date. It was bad enough that Snow was even thinking about it, but if she was ever to voice those concepts where other people could hear… Well, what a stupid woman she would be.

Getting visitors to the White household was something of a common occurrence, despite no household member socializing with the rest of the infamous city. No surprises there. Nobody was tolerable enough for the family to stand for more than a few minutes, especially not anyone from the darkness. There came no shock or startle to the family when a knock sounded loudly on the door.

Oh, who was it now?

Often, the eldest of the children, Jay, answered the door, acting completely nonchalant to whatever demonic authority lay beyond their threshold. He was always over-enthusiastic, optimistic, ostentatious, scaring the fiends away with his happiness, back to the Red.

There were two unintentionally – or at least that was what they told Snow’s half – segregated areas. The people of middle and the higher classes were situated in a more exquisite area of the city, whereas the working class were stuck with even uglier homes and far more criteria to follow; Marxists would have a field day with the setup of the land.

Upon opening the door, exposing the quiet atmosphere of the Whites’, a woman stood, dark and mysterious. An embodiment of the underworld itself. The kind of person that would worm her way into childish horror stories you would tell for fun.

Rent is the most overdue. Twenty-four hours to pay up. Mirror wants his money.

Black faded away, when the woman took her leave, dropping an, anything but, intricate piece of paper. Snow couldn’t indulge in it, telling Jay to look after the rest of the children, while she fled with the rest of their capital. Paper was tucked away in her trouser’s waistband.

All of her worries bled into the others, filling her with a sense of grief and that stark loneliness was back to circulating around her veins. That was a common feeling, despite the constant presence of her children. If only there was a way for her to forget her life for a while.

In the midst of her rush down pavement, what could possibly be the man of her dreams wandered on the shaded, misty alley that was adjoined to the one road she currently stepped on. It was an almost unconscious desire when Snow entered the shade and headed for the man. Of course, you would know she would have ended up here.

The cryptic man smirked – _temptation_ \- at her on her arrival, a thin cylinder between his lips. Not too far from him, another man was slumped up against the wall, forearm outstretched on his legs, needle pressed into the skin there, eyes tightly shut; he may as well have been dead from all an outsider could tell. It was such a _mundane_ thing to do, so Snow wasn’t startled at all.

Her time was well spent in her eyes and she left with a few delicate specks on her upper lip. A lack of money in her pocket. Just like it would have been years before. Snow was quite tempted to voice that, often ready to face the consequences of doing so. Completely reckless. The idea of being forgotten in a year seemed rather appealing to the woman.

By the time she had arrived home, all her children had escaped to their rooms, leaving Snow to contemplate the paper she’d received earlier. It was simple and didn’t bare much ink, the letters being somewhat scarce in amount; she could relate to that. The paper was in contrast to her skin, a stark black. Snow felt as though it bled onto her skin, while pressed between her forefinger and thumb.

In the end, it was contrite decision she had to make. There was no point in her dwelling on it and cause even more of a fuss with herself; unnecessary anxiety wasn’t good. So, when she eventually signed her name, she could practically feel the darkness engulf her body. Oh, how that was inevitable.


End file.
